The Christmas Party
by PaperPrince
Summary: John is far too adorable and lovely to be let out alone. Yet another coworker takes a liking to him- despite the fact he is married to Sherlock! Fortunately Sherlock is there to save the day! (Contains Sexual humor and Sexual harassment) Part 3 of my Miles series which I said was completed but apparently lied. I suggest you read "3,554 miles" and "Just Friends?" first.


John Watson-Holmes was a doctor and a professional and damn proud of it. Of course he enjoyed working with his partner and love of his life Sherlock solving crimes but he also enjoyed helping people even in small ways like ensuring patients received the correct heart medication.

It made him feel useful and deep down inside for some inexplicable reason John needed to feel useful and helpful, something Sherlock decided was a result of having been given a book about a helpful doctor also named John at an impressionable young age. Sherlock had then remarked that perhaps if John had been given a book featuring another profession, John may have ended up doing something more interesting than treating colds.

John had then retorted irritably that at least his part time job kept them in biscuits in the lull between private cases. This then lead to sulky kisses and bed as all their fights tended to do (but that is beside the point).

The point was, John was a professional doctor, one who was (unfortunately for him) extremely lovable.

John was mostly unaware of this fact, despite the large number of proposals he had received on the battle field from wounded comrades. All of said proposals had been more earnest than he had suspected at the time, but then he was often far too busy preventing the soldiers from bleeding out all over the ground, to have really heard their love confessions. (Indeed had he realised this he may have possibly accepted one Major Sholto who was a kind soul and a dear friend although not nearly as dear to him as his Sherlock).

John did not also take serious the many female admires who came to him weekly with complaints of minor aches and pains, assuming the old dears to be lonely and that he merely reminded them of grandsons and nephews. As for the school girls with crushes and bored flirty housewives that came to him, he was totally and utterly oblivious to their attentions having long ago decided he preferred the male form (having seen a rather marvelous display of male Greek statues during a class field trip).

He was astute enough to recall however that there had been an unfortunate incident regarding his boss at a previous position however, (somehow she'd managed to fall in love with him and believed them to be dating) but that was, John considered an anomaly. Sherlock had disagreed of course, but then John had considered him biased, clouded by love.

Sherlock was of course biased, but he was also utterly right in thinking John could easily have been a famous movie star with his handsome face and muscular body.

Had John been fully aware of the effect of either his looks or charming personality he may have taken more precaution at the staff Christmas party. But alas he was not and so did not.

The party had been organised at a very old and impressive hotel and just so happened to occur when Sherlock was sick with the flu. He had acquired it playing out in the snow with his various little nieces and nephews during a rare visit from his elder brother Sherrinford and family to London.

John had of course suggested not going, but Sherlock was on the mend and insisted he go so as to not miss any potential scandals that might occur. "I simply need to know if Dr Bentsen finally confesses her attraction to the receptionist!" He told John, who sighed wishing his husband not treat his coworkers like a soap drama. He fluffed Sherlock's pillows one last time before giving him a quick snog goodbye.

The party was pretty much like most other office parties John had been to. The event was garishly decorated and there was far too much free alcohol around. Smiling slightly and basking in the plentiful Christmas cheer John sat down next to Dr May, a small mousy woman with a dirty laugh.

The night started off with a mini award ceremony, with prizes being given out for things like; the most number of flu shots given out in a year, oddest injury and worst patient. John of course accepted a mini thimble of a trophy for having called in sick the most, also claiming "most likely to be asleep in his office" and much to the annoyance to everyone else "best doctor" (given to the doctor, who had scored the highest number of commendations from patients). John secretly blamed Sherlock for the first two awards and to strive to do better in the New Year.

Once the awards were over they started in on the dinner and then dancing. The dinner was not fabulous but then John was spoilt, having learnt that Sherlock had spent three months undercover as a chef at Angelo's restaurant John coaxed him into cooking whenever he could and put on seven pounds as a result.

The dancing was better but John lacked his favourite partner, however since it was disco that didn't really matter as he could just dance in the crowd and lead the conga line.

Aware of his family's addiction to the substance John was not a big drinker. Which is why after one small glass of white wine he mistakenly chose to stick to the fruit punch, unaware that the drink was a concoction of several different types of strong alcohol which was then masked by copious amounts of sugary juices. It was a drink Dr May had invented during her wild student days.

It was sometime after his third glass of punch that John realised he was drunk, but then again by that time he didn't really care despite having the morning shift the next day. Glancing at the clock and realising it was near midnight John decided it was time Cinderella went home to his prince. Decision made, John made a few brief goodbye's here and there and slipped away from the dancefloor.

John reclaimed his jacket from the hall and wandered outside where he discovered fresh snow falling. There was already several centimeters on the ground and probably ice as well. Deciding not to risk the walk back in the dark with his bad leg John rang for a taxi and considered going back inside to wait.

As he turned to go back inside he spotted Sam, the new male nurse smoking on a bench and decided to say hello, as Sam was one of the few others to come alone like himself. Sam was young, or at least young enough in John's mind to call him a boy, and attractive in the way that youth made most boys good-looking, namely his face was pink and full of potential.

In truth John didn't know much about him, since Sam had only started the month before. But they were friendly enough, for John tried to be friendly to all his coworkers- it made it easier to get time off and shifts covered.

Sam smiled as he approached. "You look nice Doctor. It seems I'd wrongly assumed those jumpers were surgically attached."

John flushed drunkenly, zipping his coat up hiding the smart blue shirt and trousers he was wearing. "Watch it. Or I might have you count the tongue depressors next time it's slow." Sam laughed and made room for him on the bench. John sat and pressed his hands together to keep them warm and tried to think of something to say. A snowflake fell on his nose and he brushed it away.

"You looked like you were having fun in there. You won the dancing competition right?" John said struggling to remember.

Sam nodded. "And made a fool of myself at the karaoke. But I'd have rather won the limbo that was some impressive bending."

John blinked assuming he'd imagined Sam's tone. "Yes well I do a bit of yoga now and then. It helps my arm." He said moving it in a circle as he spoke recalling how Sherlock had teased him about it until he'd caught John stretching in the living room in just a tiny pair of shorts and it now it was one of Sherlock's favourite activities.

Sam seemed to notice John's thoughts drifting and elbowed him in the side. "Hey, hey." He said trying to recapture John's attention. "What were those pictures you were showing Dr May? Anything naughty?"

John laughed. "I was showing her photos of my dog." He said getting his phone out and showing him various pictures of Gladstone playing about.

"He's got my jumper there and oops." John said as the next picture wasn't of Gladstone but rather of Sherlock's handsome pale bare chest.

"Pretend you didn't see that." John said quickly moving to the next picture which was thankfully Gladstone in a paper crown.

Sam smirked. "It's fine." He said moving closer. "In fact- I"

John cut him off seeing his taxi approach, the headlights shining brightly on the snow. "Well that's me. This was fun, I'll see you tomorrow." He said moving towards the car.

Sam stopped him grabbing at his arm.

"I don't want to be rude but it seems my ride isn't coming." He ruffled a hand through his short red hair. "Do you mind if I share your taxi?"

John paused on unsteady feet. He really wanted to go home to Sherlock and snuggle. But on the other hand it was cold, freezing out and Sam's jacket was fashionably thin. John nodded and let him slide into the taxi with him.

The taxi driver blinked at the two of them a little surprised by the extra passenger. "Where to?" He asked gruffly in a foreign tone.

John paused half expecting Sam to rattle off his address but Sam just smiled and fiddled with his phone. John gave his address, assuming that the boy didn't want to confuse the driver and so they headed off to 221B.

John kept his eyes fixed on the car window making note of the streets they went down and counting down the ones until Baker Street. He pulled out his wallet as they approached Speedy's which was of course closed by now for the night. Which was a shame as a part of John could have done with some greasy chips after all that dancing. He'd pay his share of the taxi and then Sam would take it to his place. At least he that's what he'd thought.

Sam apparently had other ideas getting out of the taxi as well. John turned and looked at him confused, his brain slow and sluggish from the booze. The taxi zipped off leaving them alone. "Do you live around here?" He asked curiously, making his way to his front door.

Sam followed behind him and shook his head. "I can call a taxi from here. Let's have another drink at yours and then I'll get a taxi." He said grabbing John's wrist with his hand.

John frowned. That wasn't their arrangement nor did Sam's plan make any sense at all. But it was late and they were clearly drunk, and Sam's grip was frighteningly strong and the boy was taller than him. John scrunched up his face in thought.

"Come on just a drink." Sam said nicely loosening his grip.

He was being silly, John decided. Sam was a nice boy, almost a friend. And he might feel better after a quick cup of tea. Bitting his lip John opened the door. "Be quiet I don't want to wake anyone up." He whispered heading for the stairs. Sam nodded following closely behind.

John stumbled over to the kitchen and picked up the kettle. "I'll make us some tea." He said and realised Sam was not listening. John turned back to the livingroom and found Sam wasn't there. "Sam?" He called quietly, hoping that he'd left.

John heard a squeak, the kind Gladstone's chew toys made and turned around looking down the corridor. To his great dismay he saw Sam wandering into his bedroom, the very same one his husband Sherlock was sleeping in!

John put the kettle down and followed after him confused and very, very annoyed. A cup of tea was one thing but invading his home was another. He opened to door intending to tell Sam off for spying and hoped that Sherlock hadn't been woken, for he was like a grumpy kitten when roused.

"What the hell are you doing?" John asked entering the room and turning the light on. He stopped startled. Sam had decided to undress and was currently removing his tight jeans and underwear. Sam grinned at him and wiggled.

"I can put on a show if you want." He said winking lustily at John.

John stood speechless, gaping like a fish.

"I think you've shown more than enough already." Sherlock snarled from the bed sitting up obviously awake. Sam stares at him in shock having assumed he and John were alone together. John merely looks at Sherlock worriedly, unsure how he had fallen into this mess and hoping his beloved would know the truth and not be awfully upset.

Sherlock looked at both John and Sam. He saw that John had been drinking but he knew John, he knew he was loyal and adored him. There was no doubt in Sherlock's heart for even a moment. It was obvious that John had not meant to bring the red head home but rather bullied into it. John was a kind soul and had probably planned on letting the silly boy sleep on their sofa. John certainly hadn't mean to let the boy to get in their bedroom let alone their bed.

Sherlock frowned and looked dismissively at the half naked young man standing in his bedroom with his cock hanging free. He had no sympathy for someone who had being trying to steal from him. He stared deeply at the boy for several moments making him squirm and enjoying the feeling. He turned to look at John questioningly.

John cleared his throat and found his voice at last. "Sherlock dear uh this is Sam. Sam's a nurse. Sam this is my husband Sherlock."

Sam stood there with his jeans and pants hanging around his ankles, his face red with embarrassment and his eyes wide. "You're married?" He said startled.

"Of course he is. He's a catch." Sherlock said flinging the covers off himself and getting up, deciding that this farce had gone on long enough. He strode forward standing inbetween John and the youth unashamed by his nudity. "I think that it is quite clear you are not welcome here. As you can see the position in John's bed is already filled. And by a much better candidate" He said waving a hand over his much bigger and more attractive cock. John blushed and clung to the door handle as Sam spluttered angrily.

"Fine Grandad here's all yours." He sneered jealously as he pulled up his trousers. "I just wanted an easy fuck, how was I to know he was a stupid flirt and a bottom to boot?" He added making rude assumptions and pulling his jacket on.

Sherlock strode over and grabbed Sam by the shirt. "Don't speak about my husband like that. He's not a flirt, he's polite, something only and imbecile with no manners like you would confuse." He said dragging the young man out of the room and ejecting him from the building pushing him out the front door with a swift kick.

John heard them go, having meant to follow after them concerned it might turn into some sort of domestic fight, but his legs trembled and his head swam. He sunk down to the floor and sat there dizzily until Sherlock returned.

Sherlock had put on a dressing gown at some point on his way back to John it seemed, and John clutched at the silky material as Sherlock helped him up. It wasn't until Sherlock wrapped his arms around John that he realised he was shaking. Sherlock kissed his lips softly and stroked his cheek. "Let's go to bed darling."

John bit his lip worriedly and held him close. "You're not mad at me then? You know I didn't- I wasn't-!" He began but Sherlock shushed him.

"Of course I know you didn't want him. Only an idiot would bring someone like him home for a hook up when they had me waiting at we'll have to find you a new job. Maybe working with nuns." Sherlock said removing John's shirt and kissing at the golden flesh. "Let's get you into bed." Sherlock added removing the rest of John's clothes intent on clearly reestablishing John was his.

_This is set some time after the last story with Sarah and as a result some aspects of Sherlock and John have too, as their relationship has developed. I also decided that Sherlock and John have converted their Civil Partnership into a marriage as they are now allowed to do so in the UK. _

_I also realise how odd it must be posting a Christmassy story in September._


End file.
